


Give In

by carolion



Series: Fated [2]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolion/pseuds/carolion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What can he say to the guy he made out with outside an auditorium seven months ago?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give In

David is so _embarrassed_. What can he say to the guy he made out with (and, um, totally _groped_ ) outside an auditorium seven months ago? “Sorry I left you hanging”? “I never thought I’d see you again, whoops”? It’s so awkward, eating breakfast the first day, and watching Cook mingle with the other Idol hopefuls, cracking jokes and running his hands through his stupid hair. David thinks maybe Cook will just ignore him, pretend they’ve never met, but then he comes swaggering over to David’s table and sits down across from David with his plate piled high with food. His grin is wide and white and obnoxiously smug, and it makes David want to knock the stack of French toast off of Cook’s plate.

“You got a haircut,” Cook observes, in lieu of a hello, and reaches his hand out to skim the top of David’s head, where his hair is pushed into a spiky faux hawk sort of thing.

David tries not to duck away, and rolls his eyes at how Cook hasn’t changed, how he still invades personal space without being invited. (How that trait had started this whole mess.)

“Um, yeah,” he says, glancing nervously around them, noticing the other contestants noticing _them_.

“It looks good,” Cook says casually, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. Then he smiles wickedly and leans forward. “I’m starting to think you always look good.”

David flushes without meaning to, images of what Cook might want to do to him flooding his mind. Would Cook think he looked good spread out and naked on a bed, or on his knees on the ground, or kneeling with his ass up, hands tied behind his back? He quickly looks away, afraid that the look on his face will give him away, or if he sees Cook’s mouth wrap around another strawberry he might lose it completely.

A guy sitting at their table leans in closer, looking confused. “Do you two know each other?”

“Not really,” David answers quickly, the same time Cook says, “A little bit.”

The other contestant continues to look confused as David glares at Cook, who just seems amused.

“We’ve met,” David corrects, without looking away from Cook’s smirk, and he knows, pathetically, that he’s going to give in to this scruffy, charming rocker. Again.

Cook smiles like he knows it, and then abruptly stands up, gathering his plate and touching two fingers to his brow.

“I’ll see you around Archie,” he says, and David blinks at him.

“Archie?” He asks, confused by the nickname.

“There’s like twenty different Davids here, Archuleta, be glad you have something unique going for you.”

Cook turns and leaves with a little wave, migrating to another table where the people there greet him with cheers and raucous laughter, and leaving David sitting frustrated and helpless as people give him curious looks.

\--

David doesn’t talk to Cook again until lunch. He’s feeling giddy and relieved from performing in front of the judges that morning – he’d made it to Thursday. They’d _liked_ him. David had been one of the first to go on stage, playing ‘Crazy’ on the keyboard, and he’d been so nervous, but he loves singing that song and people had like, gotten up and cheered for him, which was beyond amazing. But most importantly all three judges loved it and put him through to Thursday. Now he could (sort of) relax and watch the other contestants. (And practice for the next round, of course.)

“Hey,” Cook comes out of nowhere, his hands slung in his pockets. “I had no idea you could sing.”

David freezes and stares at him, stares at his _mouth_. Cook has a lollipop between his lips and he’s sucking merrily away at it, doing nothing to ease David’s anxiety. He swallows roughly and forces his eyes up to Cook’s.

“I – I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t sing. Everyone here can sing,” he says stiffly, trying not to remember how that mouth felt on his.

Cook smiles around the lollipop, drawing one hand out of his pocket to take the hard candy out. David notices his lips and teeth and tongue are all tinged blue.

“Yeah, but not like you do. You know what I mean. You can _sing_.”

Somehow that, out of all the things that Cook has said to David, seems to hit him the hardest. His body flushes hot from the praise, and he feels proud and pleased and eager, more excited by this comment from Cook, from a real singer who plays guitar and has a band and has played shows and bars and cut a record, than from any comments the three intimidating judges gave him.

And he finds he wants to kiss Cook, taste the blue lollipop and find out if it’s blueberry or raspberry or some other faux-fruit flavor, or just the taste of the color blue, whatever that might be. He wants to make it up to Cook, apologize for teasing him, wants to get down on his knees and let Cook fuck his mouth and pull his hair, and he wants Cook to push him around, call him dirty words and tell him every filthy thing he wants to do to him.

He thinks maybe Cook can see the thoughts running through his head, because his expression goes sharp and interested, and his shifts his stance, perking up. David stares at him, unabashed, and licks his lips and realizes that he _can_ kiss Cook if he wants to, Cook wouldn’t stop him, and his body tightens and he takes a few steps closer.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” David asks, his voice pitched soft and intimate. He’s being a little shameless, reaching out to Cook’s chest to smooth his shirt down, glancing up at Cook’s face through his lashes, pouting his lips a little. If he had his way he’d be down on his knees mouthing Cook through his jeans right here, right now, but everyone is having lunch around them or doing scales in the corners, and David really just wants to get Cook _alone_.

Cook makes the connection immediately, he’s not stupid, and David watches his eyebrows raise a few millimeters, surprised.

“ _Really?_ ” he asks, and David nearly rolls his eyes, impatient, because _no_ , he was totally kidding, gosh, he just wanted to “talk”; yes, really!

He nods subtly though, and Cook drops the idiot-act, tossing his lollipop in a nearby trash bin and turning to look David up and down. David wants to shake under his dark gaze, but that’s stupid, so he doesn’t. It still makes him feel hot and tingly when Cook smirks like he approves.

“Okay then,” Cook says, “lead the way.”

David takes him back to his hotel room, because he wants the privacy, and also because he wants the option. He wants the option to strip completely naked if he wants to, or drag Cook into the shower, or lay Cook down on the bed and lick his entire body up and down. Cook says nothing, but follows eagerly, shadowing David’s footsteps closely.

He has to take a breath when he opens the door and closes it behind them, unwilling to appear as desperate and eager as he really feels, and toes his shoes off by the door. When he turns around, Cook is staring at him, head tilted and mouth quirked, not quite a smile or a smirk, but something different.

“Come here,” he says, and David obeys, sliding up close and tilting his face up, ready for it when Cook slides his hand into his hair and cradles the back of his head. His lips are parted and waiting by the time Cook leans down to kiss him, and he lets the first one be slow and deliberate, lets their mouths warm to each other first. He tries not to touch Cook, but it’s too hard and he rests his hands on the curves of his hips, presses into the kiss a little harder, and little more wanting.

“Do you want this?” Cook asks in the space between their mouths, when they both pull back to breathe. Normally David would think that’s a stupid question, but he knows what Cook means. _’We might have to see each other a lot more from now on – do you want this? Do you want to see me, know me, touch me, taste me?’_

David jerks his chin up in assent, and then licks Cook’s stubble-rough jaw with his tongue, trailing down and kissing the hollow of his throat. His hands slide from Cook’s hips to his belt, undoing the buckle swiftly as he presses his cheek to Cook’s neck.

“I want to suck you,” he says, and it sounds loud in the quiet of the room, and that heat is rushing to his stomach, just thinking about it, wanting Cook to use and abuse him, wanting to wrap his arms around Cook’s strong thighs and hang on for the ride, open his throat up and _swallow_.

Cook hisses, “Jesus,” and then there’s a hand on top of his hand, pushing down, forcing him down and David drops to his knees eagerly, feeling his own pulse race in his wrists, in his throat, a thrumming rhythm that he tries to ignore as he pushes his face against the bulge in Cook’s jeans.

It’s warm and rough and he kisses the bulk of it, rubbing his mouth and nose and cheeks against it, nuzzling against _it_ like a pet would against their master. He scratches his nails against the firm width of Cook’s thighs, and then pulls the jeans down to pool around Cook’s ankles, immediately opening his mouth and licking at Cook’s cock through his underwear. He sucks a wet patch into the fabric and hums, satisfied with the heat and the solidness he can feel beneath, and he can’t wait any longer, but rips the boxers down and scoots closer.

Cook’s erection is thick, and long, and kind of perfect for what David wants right now. He looks at it for a long moment, and then Cook’s hand on his head pushes him forward, hurrying him, _reminding_ him. He curves his hands around the backs of Cook’s thighs, just underneath his buttocks, and licks delicately at Cook’s balls, tenderly and almost shyly. He can tell Cook wasn’t expecting that from the sharp intake of breath from above, and how Cook’s thighs jerk beneath his touch. He smiles before opening wider, sucking now, making soft, encouraging noises as Cook swears and the hand in his hair tightens.

“Good, that’s – that’s good,” Cook manages, his voice rough and shaky. “Lick – yes, that’s it, god,” he moans, and David feels a thrill of pride curl through him. He likes this, making Cook fall apart a little bit, but this is just warm up, and he wants that cock in his mouth and shoved down his throat now, please.

David pulls back to lick his lips and glances up. Cook is staring down at him, eyes glazed and unfocused. He looks even _hotter_ from down on the ground, bigger and more powerful than he really is, and it turns David on, makes him want to squirm and act stupid, maybe beg Cook to finger him, but instead he just turns his attention back to Cook’s erection. He grips the base with one hand and lowers his mouth down around the head, trying to go slow, enjoy it, but Cook’s growling from above him and his hips are jerking roughly and David knows that Cook is going to take his revenge now.

“Take it,” is the rough command from Cook, and David melts, absolutely, and he hates that he has this kink for dirty talk and manhandling, but he can’t seem to help it. He swallows around the head and then sinks down, breathing through his nose and undulating his tongue in the best way he knows how.

“There, god, yes, you’re so – don’t move, open up, c’mon, I know you can,” Cook cajoles and David does, relaxes so that Cook’s quick sharp moments don’t bruise his throat so much, and his mouth feels like it’s overflowing but he just swallows, swallows, swallows, and Cook groans and grabs David’s chin, pulling out and jerking off roughly.

“Don’t flinch,” he warns, and David doesn’t, just stares at Cook, mouth feeling sore and bruised and open and panting, until Cook lets out a long moan and comes, ejaculate striping David’s face. The hand on his chin keeps him from turning away, but he closes his eyes and licks his lips Cook comes all over his face.

Cook drags the head of his cock against David’s cum-smeared lips and hisses when David sucks the tip in, pulling back to rub his fingers through the mess on David’s face.

“God I wish I had time to fuck you,” Cook says, dragging David up from his knees. David winces and licks at the corner of his mouth, fighting the urge to wipe his face clean. “You look perfect like this. I bet you’d look better on my cock, fucking yourself, god you’d love it. You want it, don’t you?”

David nods miserably and tilts his hips forward, rubbing his aching cock against Cook’s bare thigh. Cook kisses him chastely on the mouth and then shoves him backwards against the bed, shaking his head.

 

“I could leave you here, you know. To get yourself off, just like you left me outside that first time.” Cook kicks off his pants and leans over the bed, his eyes dark and wicked. David squirms, shoving his hand down his pants and gripping his dick loosely, squeezing and shifting.

“You know how frustrating that was? Your hand on my cock and then you just – turning and leaving? And I had to watch your tight little ass walk away? You’re a fucking tease and you know it,” Cook growls.

David wants to protest, that’s he’s not really a tease, that Cook just sort of makes him crazy, makes him do things he would never do, and maybe if he hadn’t been there with Claudia that night, he _would_ have jerked Cook off outside that auditorium. He wasn’t the kind of guy to tease, or to lead someone on, but Cook made all his common sense fly out the window, made him reckless and wanting and _slutty_ , and he hated it and he loved it all the same.

“No, please,” David whines, hating the way his voice sounds, so stupid and helpless. “Please,” he repeats, and Cook takes pity on him, putting his hand over where David’s hand is in his pants.

“Take your hand out,” Cook commands, and David does so, immediately, lifting them up above his head and looking hopefully at Cook. The other man just smiles though, and lays down next to David. He puts his mouth by David’s ear, hot puffs of breath making David shiver.

“I bet I can make you come in your pants,” Cook teases, and starts a slow, firm rubbing against David’s hard cock, and it feels _amazing_ to have his hand there, but frustratingly not enough, and David just wants to _come_.

He’s sure it won’t be enough, sure that he’ll have to undo his pants and slick himself and jerk off, but then Cook starts to _talk_.

“When you left me hanging do you know what I did? I went straight to the men’s bathroom and jerked off, thinking about your pretty mouth and your gorgeous hands, and your perfect ass. I thought about the sounds you make, how you’d come undone, how fucking eager you were for my kiss. You and your sassy,” Cook bit down on his earlobe gently, “sassy mouth, and I bet you’ve got everyone fooled, don’t you? Thinking you’re a nice boy, a sweet boy, when really you want to sit on my lap and ride me hard, I know you do.”

David’s body feels like it’s on fire, and suddenly the friction is ten thousand times more electrifying. He squirms and whimpers, arching his back when Cook squeezes his cock through his pants, and offering him his neck. Cook kisses it obligingly, the scruff of his unshaven face scratchy and just on the edge of uncomfortable.

“Are you gonna come for me? Are you? You didn’t think you were, did you. When I saw you yesterday I thought I was mistaken. Couldn’t possibly be you, that would be ridiculous, but I’m glad. Because I wanna fuck you. And I wanna suck you. And I’m going to do _all_ of it,” Cook murmurs, and then kisses him on the mouth, rubbing vigorously and reaching his free hand up underneath David’s shirt to pinch and roll a nipple between his fingers, and it’s all just – too much. David chokes and bites down on Cook’s bottom lip, groaning as he arches up and comes.

Cook murmurs soft things to him and kisses his face gently, soothing him through the aftershocks that hit him dull waves. David’s chest is heaving and feels like he wants to cry, his limbs shaky and numb. Cook draws away and David wants to grab onto him and hold him close, just for a little while longer, but he can’t make himself move at all, so he just watches with heavy lidded eyes.

“You’re a mess,” Cook says, but it’s fond, not mean, and he pulls on his pants. “You better go clean up. I need to, I’m fucking auditioning later, Jesus, how do you even make me do this,” which David thinks is _rich_ , coming from Cook, who is obviously the one making _David_ do all of these things so out of character!

Cook grabs his stupid cowboy boots and then leans over the bed to touch David’s cheek gently. He grins and winks.

“I’ll catch you later Archie,” he says with a cheeky smile, and then is out the door before David can even complain about the nickname. He sighs and relaxes into the bed, wondering what the coming weeks would bring.


End file.
